


Wouldn't Be For Evermore

by orphan_account



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Break Up, Failed Proposal, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, dtao3, georgebur peeps come get your….. crumbs? its not even crumbs at this point it's just dust particles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28447158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: George remembers the day he and Wilbur first met. More importantly, he remembers the golden feeling rushing through his veins when he found someone he immediately clicked with.Looking back at it, he realizes the gold coursing through his veins at the time was the work of a Midas touch, a curse wrapped up in sequins and sparkles.Too bad he only realized that when Wilbur got down on one knee with his mother's ring in hand.
Relationships: GeorgeNotFound & Wilbur Soot, GeorgeNotFound/Wilbur Soot, Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & Phil Watson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	1. champagne problems

**Author's Note:**

> Hello to the currently barren wasteland that is the Georgebur tag and the fifteen people who roam around this part of town. 
> 
> This chapter is partially beta’d by a lovely fellow named “star gold io” whom I met on a discord server. I owe them for fixing up some parts here and there.
> 
> Moving on, don't force this onto cc’s, and happy new year.
> 
> (Edit on 01/06/2021 : I came across a comment on someone else's fic saying Wilbur's not okay with shipping. From the research I've done, I observe Wilbur being fine with shipping as long it is SFW. If you want to read what I've read to note that, you can visit this link : https://smp-boundaries.tumblr.com/post/190779738275/nsfw-wilbur-has-said-or-at-least-implied-that . With that said, I don't condone forcing ships into cc's faces. That is why I noted above to not force this fic onto cc's. Anyway, that ends this. Enjoy the story.)

When they first met, everything turned to gold.

Coursing through his veins, the gold rush of finding someone that he immediately clicked with was a high George was going to enjoy. 

It was when he was first moving in with his boxes of belongings that he bumped into a passing stranger. The poor guy was also so busy with his own things that they both didn't notice them crashing into each other. 

Quickly saving their things from tumbling to the ground, they gathered their composure before moving to apologize. 

They both gave each other their apologies before the other man said, “You know, they say this dorm was once a madhouse. Guess us crashing into each other just helps prove its point.” 

“Well then, this madhouse must be made for me,” George jokes in return. 

The stranger snickered at his remark. “The name’s Wilbur by the way.”

Wilbur said as he set his moving box on the ground before he held out his hand. To that, George set down his own box and grabbed the palm in front of him.

“George. I didn't know we did formalities here this early; class isn't ‘till next week,” he said.

Another small bit of laughter came out of Wilbur. “I didn't really bow to you, did I? What, are you royalty or something?”

The shorter of them laughed at that comment before adjusting his posture, mimicking someone of nobility. “Yes! I am George, the one and only! All thou must bow down before thee,” George proclaimed while making a decent attempt at keeping a straight face.

With that, Wilbur released a bigger laugh before being able to move the topic to something about the university he assumed they were both attending.

In that time they spent together, both men hit it off amazingly, forgetting about their belongings next to them. They bounced off each other's energy with ease and interest.

When they exchanged numbers, a smile took over both of their faces, and George could never imagine that the same smile staring back at him would be the same one that’d be glistening under the decadent lights of their first date.

He could never have predicted that it’d be that same smile being the same one he’d be waking up next to every single day on end.

But most jarringly, he never imagined that same smile to belong to the man who was currently down on one knee in front of him with his mother’s ring in hand. 

George’s thoughts raced with confusion and emotion. Wasn't he supposed to be overjoyed? 

When he recalled the tale of when they met, he swiftly understood the gold he felt coursing through his veins was the work of a Midas touch, a curse wrapped up in sequins and sparkles. 

He should've seen this coming. His nerves had been telling him that something was oddly off in their figurative house of stone. His veins were pulsing with voices telling him that something is bound to slip beyond his reaches. Yet the ivy growing in their home wasn't enough proof that George was tugging at a rug beneath him and his lover's feet. 

As if he hadn't had enough of overthinking, his mind brought him more queries to exploit. What would've happened if he had listened to those doubts? Would he still be unprepared to answer? Would he still be stuck in his head? 

So many questions but no answer. What a shame. What a shame he was like this. What a shame he had to ruin a mystifying night where they had been dancing even when the music stopped a few minutes prior. But why was he even one to ruin it in the first place? There must be some reason out there as to why he made unsolved theories in his head all the time, right?

The more he searched for a reason, the harder it was to come up with anything, or at least something that he was willing to acknowledge. All that compared to the man on his knees who’s spewing out speeches and reasons on why George would make the perfect husband.

_ Husband _ . 

Did he want to be a husband? At some point in his life he would have to settle down. How about now? He didn't have an answer to that. Wilbur seems he was ready to be a husband but not him. 

Oh, Wilbur. That man was such an evergreen gem, an anomaly in the sea of people he met. He held the Midas touch and the flannel cure to all of the shorter man’s little insecurities. If George knew Wilbur had told his family about his plan to wed, maybe he would act differently. If George knew about the bottle of Dom Pérignon Wilbur’s sister splashed upon when he spilled his plans, maybe he would act differently. 

_ Maybe _ .

How often could you trust a maybe though? 

Wilbur didn't deserve to be treated like this. He didn't deserve to be stuck with George when deep down George knew they were never meant to be permanent. He didn't deserve to deal with these petty champagne problems racing in George’s head a million miles per second. 

Yet after all of that internal shock and bickering, the man on his knees was still doing his speech with tears welling up in his eyes. 

_ Now or never, George. _

With the weight of a feather, the shorter of them inched away from his partner as he released a breath that might’ve been stuck like a dagger in his throat. The actions didn't go unnoticed as much as he wished because at the same moment, Wilbur’s head peeked up to read the other’s expressions, and the painful drop in his face was as bright as the fireworks exploding outside. 

The movement of George’s head was all that it took to turn the man of speeches speechless. 

“I’m sorry, Wilbur... I.. I have to go.”

George made a quick effort to get out of Wilbur’s line of sight and instead back home from this rented penthouse to pack up his belongings. In his haste, he forgot about the ever so present crowd of friends applauding to the start of a new year. Techno saw him and so did Phil, the two wondering what's George doing without his other half. Unable to read the guilty expression on George’s face as he left the apartment, their minds didn't take long to figure out that they had to look for their brotherly figure.

They rushed through the body of people, muttering apologies to those they bumped into, and soon found a glass heart dropped and shattered on the floor next to a mesmerizing bottle of Dom Pérignon standing on a nearby countertop. Lowering themselves to adjust to their crestfallen friend, they asked him what's wrong and why George was on his way out of the venue. They only got wails of unmollified devastation as a response, but all the dots connected when they spotted a golden band laying on the kitchen tiles where they grazed upon. 

_ Oh _ . 

This was not a good time for someone to pop a bottle of champagne in the other room.

Meanwhile on the cold sidewalk illuminated by fireworks, the man who once revelled in blue gifted roses was nothing else than a disheveled tragedy. His mind swiftly geared up again as the afterglow of what he just did sinks in. He drowned in the uncertainties to come and how there will be people roaming around as if everything was normal in the world. That was a petty truth that he had to accept; everything and everyone around him will still be able to live normal lives because they weren't suffering as terribly as him. Everyone will still be able to shame him for being fucked in the head while wondering how much of a lovely groom he would've been. 

Everyone would move on, but George? He will be living in his world of champagne problems while someone so dear to him finds the real thing to patch up the tapestry that he had shred. He can't do anything but watch as Wilbur will soon have someone else’s picture in his wallet, pass his mother’s ring to someone else, and forget about all of George’s bubbling champagne problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *smiles*.. I’m not going to lie; this baloney is a bunch of hopefully decent metaphors and terrible progression tied together with a smile. But hey, that's that.
> 
> This chapter is heavily inspired by Taylor Swift's song “champagne problems” from her newest surprise album titled “evermore”. I highly recommend giving the album a listen.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always very appreciated; they mean a lot!


	2. evermore

The events succeeding Wilbur’s best friends finding that golden band were a blur.

They come back in bursts; visions of sparkly lights and used up tissue paper juxtapose each other terrifyingly. To say it haunts Wilbur as he carries his weight back home would be a severe understatement. That is if "home" would count as a desolate apartment room where his lover used to have his badges and plaques up on the walls. 

He couldn't return to his place for at least a week after the event. Even five kilometers anywhere near it would raise moments he and his beloved had cherished in their years together. 

It was as if the universe pulled the rug from under his feet, purposefully striking him again and again until he had to replace his tears with slumber. Yet after his occasional naps where he would imagine a universe where things happened differently, he’d return to the same routine of being pulled out of his imagination, realizing he’s still in Phil’s guest bedroom, and having Techno, Phil, or anyone caress his back for what could be described as years on end. 

If it's thought about hard enough, no words could truly encapture the agony he felt back when he saw the face of his lover that night. No words would be able to put out into the world how he couldn't believe the same person who held his hand through every incandescent glow was able to so easily drop his heart made out of the clearest and tempered glass. He couldn't even blame that man for refusing his eternal request as well. He even goes so far as to wonder where it all went astray. Why didn't he see this coming? As much as he and his friends remind him that he can't change the past, he still finds himself trickling bitterly into those caverns as his rational thinking yells at him to stop. 

_ Stop. _

He wishes it would all just stop, and he could just rewind the tape to where they first met so that things would've ended up much differently. To rewind so that he didn't make that man his temple. To rewind so that he would still be able to watch wisteria grow underneath them when they're old because they've been frozen together for so long. To rewind so that they could write sad proses about each other and laugh at those alternate realities. As much as he tries though, that tape gets stuck at every attempt of going back and instead pauses itself to prolong his suffering. 

In midst of all the fractured fantasies that would send Wilbur into downwards spirals, a glimmer of hope sneaked its way into the floorboards and his dreams. A glimmer that spun and sprinkled golden optimism guided him in each footstep leading up to the day wherein he turned up to his front door.

Though he dreaded the moment he’d wind up on his doorstep, the weeks he spent eyeing snowflakes helped him rediscover some purpose to his life. 

Next to him at his doorstep, Techno and Phil stood with reassurance, cheering him on and silently thanking the heavens that they survived all the winter.

_ Now or never, Wilbur. _

Opening the door, even Techno and Phil were out of breath at how empty the apartment looked. 

Wilbur released a sigh before walking into the apartment. His footsteps visited the spaces where there used to be someone else’s belongings. With warry gazes, his best friends watched closely as he wore almost a ghostlike expression.

In the duration of Wilbur scanning the household, Techno and Phil settled on the living room couch before Wilbur joined them in deafening silence muffled by the carpet they walked upon. Little movements were made before Wilbur sank his head onto Phil’s shoulder and his eyes leaked rain on the shoulder they laid upon. It took to see it with his own eyes to be able to register that he would be forced to replace the irreplaceable, and he’d have to break the terrible news to his family soon when they ask for their wedding invitation.

As a puddle formed on his shirt, Phil shared a silent nod and agreement with Techno.

They signed up for this, and they won’t be leaving even if they reached the last page. 

They will make sure that this pain they are feeling wouldn’t be for evermore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shit you not, people (probably you too) only read angst like this because the Georgebur tag is DRY. (I got one commenter in the last chapter confirming it, therefore I am correct.) 
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is also inspired by one of Taylor Swift's song, particularly “evermore”. Go listen to it (or don’t because it’s totally fine if you don’t). Try to spot every literary device in this story that I stole from Taylor too! 
> 
> Again, kudos and comments are highly appreciated! I’m pretty sure this work will underperform compared to my other stories but I am still hoping to get validation one way or another. Thank you for your time.


End file.
